I'm a creepy stalker...

I spent last Sunday hiding in bushes and peeping through windows. It's amazing no one called the police.

I've been making a little movie over the last few weekends, and I cast myself as a pathetic guy who thinks he's a spy. As part of his imagined spy training, he stalks an equally pathetic girl.

Many thanks to Shanna, Tiffany and Nina for their assistance in this endeavor of questionable social value.

I was thinking - stalking used to mean something. It was once the exclusive domain of lions on the Serengeti and shady guys with unfortunate mustaches. But now that personal information and photos are constantly broadcast in tweets and feeds, everybody's stalking. And unfortunate mustaches are also somehow en vogue. What is the world coming to?

Public Toilets are a Biohazard

Does anyone know a way to relieve oneself in a public toilet without any chance of little sprinkles bouncing back at them? Sure, there are worse fates than peeing on oneself, but I'm just afraid those ricocheting droplets might pick up some other disgusting pathogen on its way back to papa. Even if the toilet is newly flushed, it could easily have some grody E. Coli lurking on the porcelain.

Awkward Theme Song...

I made this awkward theme song like 3 years ago. Too much time on my hands...

Yippee

Call a press conference, I've started a blog!

My life is so interesting and my insights are so profound, I couldn't bear to withhold them from you one minute longer -- so I decided to jump on the blogging bandwagon roughly a decade late...